Denial
by Demica Webb Kempton
Summary: She would never accept his death. The Boss' reaction to Gat's death was understated.


Disclaimer: I don't own Saints Row

Summary: The female Boss thinks about her closest friend after destroying the Deckers. Takes place after "". Non-romantic.

Denial

Kinzie had thought the Boss suffered brain damage while she sat in the NEMO Chair. Her body convulsed violently from time to time, sometimes it would be from attacks the Deckers threw out but the other times were just... random according to the former FBI agent. Pierce's freaking out did not help her either.

"What the fuck you playing at, Kinzie?" He shouted at one point as the Saints Leader delved further into Matt Miller's Use-Net. "Her head's gonna fry if you don't pull her out!"

"Will you be quiet?" The red-head snapped, glaring at her fellow Saint. "I'm trying to figure out what is going on and I can't do that if you keep shouting at me!" The Boss' body convulsed again, more violently this time. The screen Kinzie had sat herself in front of had scrambled. "Dammit! That little punk hit me with a virus!" The Boss' body spasmed. Pierce was about to grab the Boss to hold her down but Kinzie noticed and glared harder. "Don't! You might make it worse!"

Her body continued to jolt on occasion but it had been less serious than before. She had been wrecking the Use-Net for hours now. It was just after midnight when her seizures stopped and her hazel eyes opened. She took a sharp breath and sat up too fast, hitting her forehead off the NEMO Chair's overhead piece.

"Ow, shit," She closed her eyes again, rubbing her sore spot. Kinzie pulled up the overhead and the Boss slowly stood, gently pushing Pierce's chest and stopping him from coming any closer to her.

"You okay Boss?" He instead asked. She nodded slowly, taking her hand away from her head. "You better get to a hospital, you were having some fucked up seizures."

"I'm fine," She replied shortly, not looking at her friend. "Just need some air," She looked to Kinzie quickly. "Matt and the Deckers won't be bothering us any longer. I want you tracking STAG and help Angel with the Luchadores."

"On it," The FBI agent dropped herself onto the seat again and started typing frantically. The Saints Leader walked out of the warehouse, Pierce following her with concern. She remained silent about this fact until they reached the garage. The Boss' custom Infuego parked just outside.

"I want you helping Viola sort out the Decker's territory, take out any punks who haven't got the message," Was the order as she opened the car door. Pierce grabbed her arm. "What is it?"

"What happened in there? That shit wasn't normal," Pierce pressed. He showed a great deal of concern for his superior because she wasn't just the Boss, she was a friend.

"I plugged my subconscious into the internet, of course that shit isn't normal," The Boss sighed. "Just get to work. I'm fine. I told you: it was safer than being shot at."

"Why you gotta be like that?" Pierce scoffed. The Boss simply shrugged and got in the car, driving off before Pierce could grill her more.

She felt oddly calm after leaving the Use-Net. Her head still hurt a little, however, apart from that she felt very calm. She was not sure if that was a side effect from the convulsions although she was not complaining. Her thoughts were elsewhere as she drove through Steelport, driving aimlessly in the dark.

Reaching a quiet place near the power plant the Boss parked her car and sat on the grass, looking aimlessly around her. She was pissed off when Matt Miller started going below the belt and attacking her emotionally. Not that she showed that it affected her. It only spurred her on to kick the little bastard's ass. He certainly had nerve but that was before she tore down his cyber kingdom and proved that he was nothing but a bitch with a keyboard.

How could you let Johnny die? Fuck no, she didn't let Johnny die! Her eyes glared into the darkness as the words flowed through her head. Miller said a lot of things. Gat died like a little bitch, it was her fault, she did nothing to save him. What a load of bullshit! She did _not_ let Johnny die!

Oddly a laugh suddenly escaped her lips and she shook her head. _Bullshit_, she thought, _I didn't leave Johnny to die_. The Syndicate were dirty little liars. She did not leave Johnny to die. He was not dead. Johnny Gat, dead? That was a cruel joke.

"_Do not mourn your friend. You'll be joining him soon." _Phillipe had told her when she first landed. Using Johnny's phone. He had the nerve to do that! Using Johnny's phone to say he had died on the plane was a low blow; it was cruel and horrible and a lie! She laughed again. The joke had gone on long enough. There was no way that Johnny was dead. No way!

Gat was there since the beginning. She remembered being determined to impress him after being canonized. She did that by helping him take down the Vice Kings. He even let her have a drive around in his prized Venom car and sharing a celebratory drink together once the deed was done. After that their friendship was cemented.

Although she never did ask how much he missed her when she was in that five year coma she could tell that Johnny was extremely relieved to see her alive. The first time they managed to express their happiness for seeing one another again was after they cleared out the mission house. Before clearing out the bodies they had bought a crate of beer and Johnny filled her in on everything that had happened in Stilwater since she was burnt up. They stuck close together as they rebuilt the Saints. She was there for him when Aisha died. She stayed by him and was there for him. She was always there for him.

She held her phone in her hand and skimmed through her list of contacts. "Gat" and "Gat Home". She would phone those phones frequently, leaving messages updating her friend on what the Saints had done. As of yet she had no reply from her friend. She was still hopeful he would call back. The phone would still ring out, tell her to leave a message and she would.

She waited for Gat to pick up and answer.

… Leave a message.

"Hey Johnny," She began slowly, hoping he would just pick up. "How's it going? We just wiped out the Deckers so they won't be bothering us now," She paused, breathing in. "They were saying the some fucked up shit. They kept saying you were dead," She laughed. "How fucked up is that? You're not dead! You've survived worse shit before," Her laughing slowed and faded, her eyes staring at the grass beneath her. "I'm sorry Gat... I really _am_ sorry. I just want you to pick up," Nothing. She closed her eyes and breathed a sigh, her voice quietening. "Please pick up Johnny..."

A beep. Her time for sending a message had run out. She hung up, holding the phone to her chest. She begged to herself that Johnny would call her back, or send her a text saying it was okay, he was okay, he was not mad at her. All she wanted to know was that Johnny was okay.

Johnny was not dead. Johnny did not die. She would never believe such a ridiculous lie. One day it would go back to normal. She would call Gat and he would be there.


End file.
